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Shadow of the Ghoul (Halfblood Legacy Book 2)

Page 4

by Devin Hanson


  Cho took a few steps toward them to stand in their path and crossed his arms. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  Savit pointed one sausage-thick finger at me. “We’ve come for her.”

  Cho didn’t do much. All he did was widen his stance by about four inches and let his arms fall to his sides. The two marid reacted as if Cho had drawn a weapon. They spread out, their steps light as they moved to flank Cho.

  “Stop!” I shouted. The two marid looked at me, hesitation on their faces. I glared at them. “Does Tovarrah know you’re here?”

  Savit sneered at me. “She sent us to collect you.”

  “Did she also instruct you to attack everyone who got in your way?”

  Amat laid a hand on Savit’s arm. “She did not.”

  Savit shook himself free. “There is not time for nicety,” he growled. “You will come. Now.”

  Cho tilted his head to the side. “Alexandra, if you do not wish to leave, you will be safe here.”

  I eyed Savit and measured the urgency in his flexing hands. Cho might be a judo master, but I wouldn’t put money on him in a fight against Savit. “It’s okay, Cho.”

  “Alex…” Ethan said. I glanced at him and saw the alarm on his face. I could see him visualizing the gun he kept in his car as if it were in a cartoon thought bubble over his head.

  “Savit and I have an understanding,” I said firmly. The last thing I needed was for Ethan to try and draw on one of the Red House. “One,” I continued loudly, shifting my glare back to Savit, “that I have kept my word on.”

  “Time is sensitive,” Amat said. “We can explain on the way, but you need to come now.”

  “Okay.” I looked around at the faces of my fellow students. I wasn’t really on speaking terms with most of them, but every single one of them looked angry. If I didn’t get out of here soon, I’d have some idiot jacked on testosterone trying to defend my honor.

  I grabbed my boots and padded across the floor toward the two marid. Savit raised his hand to grab my arm when I got close. It was the same move that I had drilled a hundred times, and I suddenly tired of being friendly. I let Savit grab me, then I pulled away from him, just enough to pull the inevitable reaction from the marid.

  As soon as I felt Savit’s weight shift, I grabbed the marid’s thumb and twisted. Savit was already slightly off balance as he tried to control me, and I used his own strength against him, pulling him over my hip. I could feel the marid’s muscles tighten as his reactions caught up with what I was doing, but by then it was too late. With a grunt and a heave, I swept Savit’s leg out from under him. My grip on his thumb kept his arm splayed out, and I rode him to the ground, wrapping my legs around his arm and locking it out with my knee hard against the side of his head.

  Savit roared in surprise and pain and tried to free himself. With his arm locked out to full extension he couldn’t get the leverage to fight me, and I leaned against his arm, pulling on some of the buzzing energy I had gathered during the day. Even with Savit’s strength, he was helpless under my hands, and I felt a surge of vicious jubilation. I had caught Savit off guard, but the training I had been working so hard at had worked!

  “Yield,” I snapped, “or I break your arm in three places.” After a moment, Savit tapped my knee with his free hand. I leaned a little harder against his arm and I felt the tendons in his elbow creak. “You touch me again, and I’ll rip your arm off,” I hissed in his ear, then rolled to my feet.

  Savit surged to his feet, and Amat caught him as he lunged toward me. “Enough, Savit!” Amat barked. “We have our orders!”

  “She has taken the offer,” Savit snarled, “I felt her strength!”

  “She has not!” Amar roared. “Look at her! She just bested you.” Amat threw Savit back and stood between us, his arms spread and chest heaving. “Stand down, Savit!”

  Savit glared at me, hate and fury suffusing his face. Then he dropped his gaze with a muttered curse and turned to stalk out of the gym. Amat dropped his arms and shot me an angry look, then hurried out after Savit. I looked behind me and saw Cho had caught Ethan’s arm and was holding him with the same thumb grip that I had subdued Savit with.

  “I believe Alexandra can handle herself,” Cho said firmly then released Ethan with a little shove.

  “Thanks,” I mouthed at Cho and hurried out the door after the two marid.

  Savit might be an angry idiot, but I respected what they stood for. The Red House had existed since before the days of Christ and worked tirelessly in a thankless fight against the demons. That I was half-demon had caused our paths to cross, but until I accepted my mother’s offer they weren’t allowed to do anything to me.

  The marid were next to a lifted F350 pickup truck, and were just finishing loading my scooter into the truck bed.

  “Good, you’re here,” Amat said with a humorless smile. “Get in the truck and we can leave.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked. I paused to tug my shoes on and get my phone out. I sent a single text message with a simple instruction.

  Send the rest.

  “To the hospital,” Savit growled.

  I raised my eyebrows at Amat and the marid sighed. “He’s correct. Tovarrah waits for us there.”

  Savit climbed into the driver’s seat and the truck rumbled to life. “Today!” he called out the window.

  Amat tilted his head to me, inviting me into the cab. My phone blipped in my hand. I glanced down at it long enough to see the confirmation text. Besides Savit being, well, Savit, I wasn’t getting any danger signals from the two marid.

  I didn’t know why Tovarrah would send for me, and that made my curiosity stronger than my fear. I had to jump to reach the grab handle in the truck cab, and I pulled myself into the truck. The crew cab had been modified to a single row of seats to accommodate the size of the marid. I slid over to the center and Amat climbed in after me. Even sharing the cab with two marid, there was enough room that I didn’t feel crowded. Without another word, Savit pulled out of the parking lot and started driving toward the nearest freeway entrance.

  “So, what’s going on?” I asked. “Why does Tovarrah want to speak to me?”

  “She believes you can help,” Amat said.

  Savit snorted his disbelief.

  I ignored Savit. “Help with what?”

  “It might be best for Tovarrah to answer your questions.”

  “Fine.”

  We pulled onto the freeway and the diesel roared as Savit floored it. I watched the speedometer climb for a moment before hurriedly putting on my seatbelt. Supernaturally strong or not, if we hit something going a hundred and thirty, it was going to hurt.

  I felt a trickle of lust that quickly grew into pounding waves. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. A moan trickled from my throat and I felt Amat shift in his seat next to me. I was thankful for my riding jacket; I knew my nipples would be standing out, noticeable even through my bra. The energy pouring into me made me shudder with its intensity, then it reached a plateau.

  “Are you all right, Alexandra?”

  Amat’s voice seemed to come from a distance. I opened my eyes and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Period cramps. It will pass.”

  A mixture of alarm and embarrassment worked over Amat’s face and he shifted away, giving me as much privacy as could be had with me sandwiched between two hulking marid. I wondered if female marid even had periods. The females among them were rare enough that I suspected Amat’s knowledge of the reproductive cycle was limited to confused guesswork at best.

  The influx of energy subsided gradually, leaving me buzzing. I felt strong enough to get out and run along next to the speeding truck for a few miles, get into an arm-wrestling match with Savit, then jump a three-story building. The energy wasn’t enough for all that, but I felt so alive I almost wanted to try. From experience I knew if Savit drove us into an overpass piling right now, between the heightened strength and accelerated healing, I would walk away fro
m the wreckage unharmed.

  Whatever Tovarrah and her Red House soldiers had planned for me, I was ready. I also had cleaned out the last of what my photographer had stored for a rainy day. Francois would be pressing me even harder for another photo shoot. The way my week was starting to shape up, I couldn’t put him off any longer.

  The truck tires squealed as Savit cut across four lanes and took the exit ramp at speed. I braced myself against the dashboard as we took a hard right into the hospital parking lot. Savit had been slowing down, but we hit the first speed bump hard enough to slam the truck’s suspension into the undercarriage. My teeth banged together with a sharp clack, then we were drifting through the parking structure in a squeal of locked brakes and slammed to a stop at an angle across two handicap spots.

  More than Savit’s words, the sprint down the freeway and the chaotic last couple seconds of our drive hammered home the urgency. I piled out of the cab on Amat’s side and didn’t complain when the two marid broke into a sprint, heading for the hospital. Most hugely muscled weight lifters can barely jog without crippling pain in their shins, but these were marid, not juiced-up humans.

  I kept up with them, only because I was smaller and lighter and could corner better than they could. I had to admit it was enjoyable, barreling down the hospital corridors, dodging gurneys and carts and leaving a trail of confusion and angry shouts in our wake. We might end up spending the rest of the night in a holding cell, but for the moment I was having fun breaking the rules.

  We skipped the elevators and took the stairs. The two marid took each landing in two steps, the steel stairwell booming under their weight. I had to work hard to keep up; my legs just couldn’t stretch as far as theirs could. We made it to the fifth floor forty seconds after parking, and only then did my escorts slow their headlong pace.

  They pushed through a door and I glanced at the signage as we jogged by. We were entering the psych wing. Savit led us swiftly down a side hallway, then pushed open a door after a swift rap. The two marid didn’t enter, just stood aside to make room for me.

  For the first time since they burst into the gym, I felt a trickle of cold fear in my guts. Still, I had come too far to back out now. I nodded at Amat and stepped into the room.

  Chapter Four

  The smell of feces and sour vomit hit me before I could take in anything else about the room. I put the back of my hand against my nose and locked my throat against my gag reflex. There was a hospital bed against the far wall with a man lying in it. His hair was matted, his skin waxy and flushed unhealthily. The veins in his forehead stood proud, glistening with sweat.

  The sheets tucked about the man were tangled from his thrashing and were smeared with vomit and stained brown around his waist. Velcro restraints held his wrists to the bed rails, and his ankles were similarly bound. There were bandages taped to the insides of his forearms.

  Next to the bed, Tovarrah stood, her arms folded, her head bowed in thought. Tovarrah was a marid, just a hair under seven feet tall with a thick braid of bright red hair that fell down past her waist. Despite the width of her shoulders, she somehow came across as lean, with a trim waist and heavy breasts. Across the bed from Tovarrah, a man in a priest’s cassock stood, his hands clasped together in prayer, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

  Tovarrah looked up when the door shut behind me and the ghost of a smile flickered across her face. “Alexandra. Thank you for agreeing to come.”

  “I wasn’t given a whole lot of choice.”

  She nodded absently. “I would not have sent Savit if I had had anyone else available.”

  “Yeah, maybe next time just send Amat.”

  That wasn’t worth an acknowledgement, apparently. “Tell me what you see here, Alexandra.”

  I shrugged, reminding myself to be patient. I took a long look at the man on the bed. He looked like death warmed over. “Last rites?”

  The smile came back, stronger this time. “We are trying to prevent that. Take a closer look. He can’t bite.”

  I eased closer to the bed and saw that Tovarrah hadn’t been making a joke. A net of leather straps had been fixed around his head, with a wide band running under his jaw, locking his mouth shut. His arms were trembling, and I realized that while he might not be moving a whole lot, every muscle in his body was locked tight with effort.

  “Jesus. Call a nurse or something. It looks like he’s having a stroke.”

  Tovarrah shook her head. “He was found like this yesterday. He is on enough tranquilizers to kill a horse, but they are ineffective. The doctors refuse to give him more. And rightly so.”

  “Okay.” I folded my arms and stepped away from the bed. “I give up. I’m no doctor.”

  “This is not a medical phenomenon,” Tovarrah said softly. She reached out and brushed a finger against the bandages on the man’s wrists. “He knew what was coming and tried to prevent it. A fruitless effort.”

  I had seen bandages like those in foster care. “He tried to slit his wrists?”

  “He didn’t try anything. The cuts were so deep they went through tendons and muscle to the bone beneath. He was not permitted to exsanguinate.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Take a closer look at him. Really look.”

  I glanced at the priest, but he seemed oblivious to our conversation. “I thought this was urgent. Why’d you rush me here if you just want to play twenty questions?”

  Tovarrah didn’t respond, just tilted her head toward the guy on the gurney. I sighed and walked over to stand next to her. I didn’t know what I was looking for. The guy looked like he was at the end of his strength. I half-expected him to stroke out at any moment. I leaned closer, wrinkling my nose against the stench that came off him. His eyes were rolling and shifting back and forth beneath his closed eyelids.

  Abruptly his eyes snapped open and the trembling strain on his muscles went slack. “Hello, Alex.” His voice was strangely high-pitched and feminine. My blood ran cold. I knew that voice.

  I jerked away and my shoulders hit the wall behind me. The man’s head lolled, and rasping laughter choked out of his throat. Tovarrah stepped forward and leaned over the man. “Speak your name,” she commanded.

  “Poor Tovarrah,” the man lilted. “What a disappointment to your mother. Five thousand years your family has contested us, only to end with an infertile daughter.”

  “Your name, demon,” Tovarrah growled.

  The priest had been startled when the man had come out of his trance, but now he stepped forward and brandished a polished wooden cross. “In the name of the Father,” he cried, “you will comply!”

  The man’s laughter broke off. “Be silent, fool. Your God has no power here.”

  “Father Deron, please.” Tovarrah didn’t drop her gaze from the man, just held out a hand toward the priest. “Let me handle this. A third and final time I ask you, demon. What is your name?”

  “Do you wish this man to perish?” the man’s strangely feminine voice demanded of Tovarrah. “And you, Father, what would your young lover say if you were involved in another death?”

  “Deceit and slander will get you nowhere,” Father Deron said, but I could hear the surprise and fear in his voice.

  The man on the gurney threw back his head and laughed hysterically.

  “Enough! Speak!” Tovarrah shouted over his laughter.

  The man slumped back against the pillows. He groaned, his voice male now. Tovarrah cursed and I saw the bandages on his wrists were suddenly blotted with blood. It welled through the bandages and started dripping down onto the sheets. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head and a tremor went through him.

  “Shit, he’s crashing,” Tovarrah growled. “Alexandra! Call for a nurse!”

  I pushed off the wall and jumped for the door. Amat and Savit were on the other side, arms folded across their chests, guarding the door. “Nurse!” I shouted. “We need medical assistance!”

  The alarm sounded, I went back to the gurney. Tova
rrah and the priest were putting pressure on the man’s wrists, but blood was still oozing from the bandages. I remembered what Tovarrah had said about the extent of the man’s self-inflicted wounds. If the arteries in his wrists were cut through, simply putting pressure on the slashes wouldn’t be enough.

  I heard running footsteps and got out of the way as a nurse pushed through the marid at the door and took control of the first aid efforts. More nurses and a doctor showed up pushing a crash cart and we were told to get out of the room with an urgency that had no room for civility.

  We got out. Ten minutes later I was sitting in an empty waiting lounge with Tovarrah as she used an alcohol wipe to clean the last of the blood off her hands.

  “He was possessed.” They were the first words I had spoken since leaving the room with its dying occupant behind.

  Tovarrah nodded, her attention focused on cleaning under her fingernails. “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did you want me to come here?”

  She examined her hands critically before wadding up the wipe and throwing it across the lounge into a trash can with casual precision. “What do you know about possession, Alexandra?”

  “Not a damn thing.” Okay, that wasn’t completely true. I had helped pull a troublesome spirit out of a woman before. But that had been years ago, and a demon was vastly different than a spirit possession.

  Tovarrah nodded as if she had expected the answer. “There are stages of possession,” she said. “What you witnessed in that room was an advanced case. The demon had complete control of the body, but had not yet evicted the soul of the human.”

  I rubbed my face. “Maybe you better start at the beginning.”

  “Maybe so.” Tovarrah nodded to herself and thought for a moment before giving a minute shrug. “Very well. There are too many ways for a demon to gain access to a human to describe, but there has to be some element of welcome on the part of the human.

  “The initial stages are subtle; the demon encourages its victim to engage in acts of sinful excess and gradually is able to become more active. It takes months of gradual twisting for a demon to gain control over a human body so completely.”

 

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